


Hunted

by mayatheyellowbee



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, Human Eskel, Humor, M/M, Prompt Fill, Witcher Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 15:59:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30141999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayatheyellowbee/pseuds/mayatheyellowbee
Summary: Prompt fill for brothebro on Tumblr:what about something with human Eskel and witcher Jaskier? Cute and fluffy
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	Hunted

Jaskier is running.

He tries to keep the discordant  _ twangs _ of his lute bumping against the scabbards of his swords to a minimum, a hand on the strap around his chest and the other holding the instrument as he navigates the narrow streets. The screams are close behind him, and he barely has time to crouch behind a stack of crates and barrels, boots soaking in a puddle of piss and other unpleasant things, before he hears one of the voices screeching: “He’s there!”

He swears and resumes his run, the little alley ending in a large, open square. Nowhere to hide, and he won’t have time to cross it before his pursuers are upon him. Taking a split second decision, Jaskier jumps through the open window of the nearest building, a little two-storeys house with a faded red facade. 

Somehow, he manages to keep his lute from splintering into firewood as he lands and rolls on dark floorboards, pressing his back hard against the wall. His heart is beating almost human-fast as the thunder of dozens of feet against cobblestones echo in the streets outside and skid to a halt, too close from the window above his head to his liking.

“Where did he go?” An angry voice asks, and several grumbles answer to it. “Tomasz, you go ask that merchant if she’s seen him! We’ll find him faster if we split.”

A sound from deeper in the room tears his attention from the terrifying mob looking for him in the street, and Jaskier turns his head to meet the warmest pair of hazel eyes he’s ever seen.

Round with surprise, they’re observing him from the far corner of what appears to be a quaint kitchen and living area. A ridiculously large man is sitting in a rocking chair, hunched over delicate knitting needles and what looks like an unfinished scarf splayed on his lap.

The man and the Witcher stare at each other in mutually startled silence, and Jaskier almost lets out an undignified squeak when a harsh knock against the window pane breaks the stillness of the room.

Jaskier must truly look terrified because when the man stands up to cross the distance between them, he doesn’t expose him immediately and instead asks the person outside: “What can I do for you, young lady?”

“Excuse me,” the little girl says politely, though with a pronounced lisp. “Did you see a weird man with a lute? With yellow eyes, like a cat.”

“Hm. Why are you and your friends looking for this man? Has he been mean to you?”

“Oh yes!” The little girl says vehemently, and Jaskier closes his eyes in despair. “He promised he’d sing at least ten songs to us, but then he sang only nine, and said we had to go back home!”

“That is very rude indeed,” the man answers in a deadly serious tone. “I am sorry I can’t help you, though, I was just asleep in my chair over there. Didn’t see anything. Let me know if you catch him, hm?”

The little girl mumbles a disappointed “thank you” before scurrying away, and Jaskier waits for the sound of her steps to recede before releasing a breath, sagging against the wall. Looking up at the man standing a few paces from him, bathing in the waning daylight cast by the window, Jaskier is able to see him more clearly for the first time since he’s broken into the house.

Slightly too long hair, like it’s been cut short and is now left free to grow without any supervision, is brought back in a low ponytail, wisps of dark hair escaping the tie to tickle at tanned neck and cheeks. Kind, handsome features, with a raised, angry scar running along the right half of his face. Jaskier doesn’t care about scars, that’d be rather hypocritical for a Witcher, but the man seems to be uncomfortable with it, trying to keep it out of view almost unconsciously.

All of it, plus the slight trembling of the man’s large hands, even though he doesn’t smell like fear, tells just enough of his story that Jaskier wants to know more.

“Why did you help me?” He asks instead as he rises from the ground, dusting the seat of his leather trousers.

“It’s not often you see a Witcher with a lute,” the man says with a smirk.

“It’s not often you see a soldier with knitting needles,” Jaskier quips back.

A shadow crosses the man’s face, too quick for a human to catch in the dimly lit room, but Jaskier sees it just fine. And immediately feels like an asshole. “I’m sorry. I should thank you, you’ve truly saved me. I had no idea children could go this feral for a song.”

“They quickly learn to fight for what they want, here. You were the idiot for trying to short them of one song,” the smile is back on the man’s face, his scars twisting with even the slightest movement.

“Yeah, looks like I was. Do you think I could make it up to you with a song?” 

“Hm. Doesn’t seem like the smartest thing to do while they’re still lurking close by.”

Jaskier’s shoulders sag a little. The man is right, obviously, but for some reason the Witcher finds himself drawn to him. He doesn’t want to leave quite yet.

“I could slay a monster for you? Free of charge.”

“There’s no monster here, I’m afraid.” Twinkling hazel eyes observe him with soft curiosity, no disgust or fear lacing the warm smell of the man. That, coupled with the frankly mouth-watering physique, makes for an addictive combination.“Tell you what,” the man says in his smooth baritone. “Why don’t I open a bottle of mead to keep us busy until the kids get back to their homes, and then we’ll see about that song.”

Jaskier’s face lightens with a smile, his hand coming up to unbuckle the strap of his scabbard. “I’d love that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://maya-the-yellow-bee.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
